


Promises of the Desert

by DisguisedasInnocent



Category: The Shadow Campaigns - Django Wexler
Genre: F/F, Romantic Gestures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-15 10:50:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8053486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DisguisedasInnocent/pseuds/DisguisedasInnocent
Summary: Winter Ihernglass came to Khandar to hide, and never expected to go back to Vordan. However, when the time comes for Winter to leave, she will not do so alone.





	Promises of the Desert

**Author's Note:**

> A possible explanation for why Feor makes the journey to Vordan, and why Winter asks Janus for her. No actual relationship.

Winter paused at the edge of her tent, her hand hovered over the string catch, and strained her ears in an attempt to listen through the stillness of the night. “Feor?” The blonde haired soldier whispered. “Can I… Is it all right if I come in?”

“It is your tent,” The Khandarai girl answered as she parted the canvas flaps of the tent, “isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Winter acknowledged with a small tilt of her head and curl of her lips. “But, it is yours too.”

Feor watched as Winter slipped through the entrance of the tent, her taller frame bending to dip underneath the wooden support poles, before shifting back to sit on the edge of her own bedroll. “You are not like the other soldiers.” Feor said after a moment of silence. “Why?”

“I thought,” Winter grunted as she tugged the heavy boots from her feet, “that we’d covered that already.”

“I know you are a woman.” Feor murmured with a purse of her lips. “That doesn’t… I have known few women like you Winter-dan-Ihernglass.” 

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.” Winter murmured with a soft friendly smile etched across her lips.

“The other Khandarai that follow your column provide a service to your soldiers.” Feor muttered with a frown. The young woman’s eyes roamed across Winter’s face, watching the emotions flicker over her features, and the questions cloud in her sapphire eyes. “There are a few that spend their nights in only a specific person’s tent. I… There have been comments that I spend my nights here. With you.”

“Comments.” Winter’s eyes darkened with a subtle but fierce anger. “Comments from who?”

“I don’t understand them well.” Feor replied, shaking her head as she glanced away from Winter’s eyes. “But… some ask very direct questions.” 

“About me?” Winter asked with an inquiring lift of her eyebrow as she reached across the small expanse between their bedrolls to grasp Feor’s hand. “And, why you?”

Feor ducked her head and jerked her chin into a nod. “Yes… They wonder what I must be able to provide to dirty the Saint.” 

“Saints and Martyrs, that’ll be Davis’s fucking influence from beyond the fucking grave.” Winter groaned as she pinched the bridge of her nose with her free hand. “Did they… Have they ever tried to touch you?”

Feor shook her head sharply. “No.” She mumbled reassuringly. “I believe they are afraid of Folsom.” 

“Good.” Winter breathed out in relief. “I want you to be safe Feor.” 

“I feel safe with you.” Feor confessed, her eyes flicking up to meet Winter’s gaze.

“I’m glad that you do.” Winter whispered as she squeezed Feor’s hand.

“Do you,” Feor paused and swallowed hard to shift the lump that had formed in her throat, “do you not want anything from me?”

“I want…” Winter blinked in surprise. The soldier’s eyes skirted across Feor’s features; the softness of her grey tanned skin, the gentle roundness of her cheeks, and the inquisitive shimmer of her light purple eyes. “I want nothing more than what you want to give me Feor. I would never ask, or presume, to take anything from you.”

Feor dipped her head in a slow nod whilst her eyes focused on Winter’s earnest expression. “And if I were to want more than this?”

Winter breathed in sharply as her heart stuttered in her chest. “Then,” she began only to have to pause and swallow to wet her suddenly dry mouth, “we would have to see. I… You’re younger than I am Feor, and my life is bound to another country’s army. I am not free to come, or go, as I please.”

“There is nothing left for me in Khandar.” Feor said with a small shrug of her shoulders. “My Brother is gone, Mother has deserted me, but you… You refused to let me go.”

“I couldn’t,” Winter murmured, “I just couldn’t let you die.” 

Feor shifted forward, off the edge of her bedroll, to kneel at Winter’s side. “I am glad that you could not.” Feor said, her voice soft and earnest, as she leaned in to press her lips against Winter’s pale cheek. “Would you take me with you? To Vordan?”

Winter’s pale cheeks flushed under the softness of Feor’s lips and her head jerked with a shaky nod. “Yes.” She mumbled, lifting her free hand to brush her fingertips across Feor’s delicate collarbone and across to cradle the back of the younger girl’s skull. “We… You are much too young for me Feor.” 

“Now perhaps,” Feor agreed with a gentle smile, “but not forever.” 

“Then,” Winter’s lips twisted into a gleaming smile, “I hope you will enjoy Vordan, and whatever else I might offer you there in time.” 

Feor smiled—it was a small smile, but powerful—as she shuffled to lay beside Winter on her bedroll. “This is what I want for tonight—someone to sleep next to.” 

“I think,” Winter murmured as she rolled onto her side to tug the thin blanket over both of their legs, “I can manage that.”


End file.
